May 9, 1998

Percy and I made a silent, whispered agreement to meet back at the flat. Leaving separately of course, I needed to check in with Lucinda and Percy needed to stay late for the full reception with his family. I could have kissed him farewell, I desperately wanted to, but a funeral was not a place for this to come into the open. Percy was in no place emotionally to be ribbed by his brothers for having a secret, live-in girlfriend and in my case, that would be a horrible impression to make on his mourning parents. I was also far too tired for introductions. Sleep was a concept, not a practice for me at the moment.

We settled instead for a friendly, co-worker departure, complete with a handshake (that felt far more erotic than a handshake ever should) for the sake of any prying eyes in the vicinity and I began to work my way out of the service. I did not know Fred well enough to stay and reminisce with strangers, but he was a good man and I too mourned the life that he could have had.

My return to Thornell was brief, I said hello to the remaining children at the site. Mainly the Carter daughters who had clearly made themselves at home, following Tavish through the garden and offering opinions of his décor and where he should plant some pink flowers for the next year. A prominent location in the center of the hedge maze was being pushed for with a lot of vigor.

I sat on a couch, drinking coffee to cope with my travel headache and speaking with Lucinda, who was updating me on the latest array of funerals and all of the purebloods who were trying to leave the country with their ill-gotten gains, but were being stopped at the border. Lucinda was laughing over this; she had reportedly given many names to the Ministry for a private watchlist in the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts – these people were being caught based on information our organization had collected through the war and through the gossip mill of Lucinda's parties.

"It's all coming together," Lucinda puffed up proudly, her grin smug and girlish in a way I struggled to affiliate with my great-aunt. "Even if the names we gave were only at the edge of it all and lying about their loyalties like we were, they'll have to speak and affirm everything we have said and say more to save what they have. Many of these old pureblood lines are financially finished – what they gained in this war will be taken back and put towards restitution and rebuilding."

"The world is changing," I added, a glimmer of excitement coming through my exhaustion. "It won't be overnight, and some people will survive the fall, but they'll never be comfortable or safe again and that's all we can ask for."

"Agreed. We could do no better in this, now we just need to rebuild ourselves." Lucinda sipped her tea and leaned back on the sitting room sofa. "I'll have to start politicking at the Ministry – we need to take this opportunity to repair that inheritance mess the Avery's put in place. I don't imagine that will be too difficult, but I'll have to get into someone's ear about the matter."

I gave Lucinda a look, "Don't you think that's how you all got into this mess, the power of name recognition politics?"

Lucinda winced, "Right, it's not just for us. If they backlog it to summer of 1995 or the end of the Fudge administration, those who manipulated the laws in their favor to take from others during the war will have to set things back to the way they were before – those wills to have inheritances go to half-blood relatives will have to be honored or those who do not carry the family name. It's undercutting the ones who benefitted from those sham laws. That's the end of my involvement, I just don't trust that to not get swept under a rug by someone who believes they have good intentions with the morals of a saint. Saints leave holes for those without moral fortitudes to fill and close – my intention is to close every possible hole before it gets created."

Not for the first time, I felt a real sense of loss for Lucinda's law career. She would have been an amazing lawmaker – but the needs of the family came before she could truly develop into the field. Perhaps that was for the best, Lucinda would have had a large target on her back and would not have been able to operate in the shadows in the way she had spent the past several years – Yaxley or some other Death Eater would have killed her.

With the chime of the clock, I excused myself to go home and sleep in my own bed – which made Lucinda shutter before playfully rolling her eyes. She hugged me farewell and I said my goodbyes as I left Thornell to go to the apparition point just beyond the gate.

I popped up in the familiar alleyway with the rat graffiti and made my way into the building where Percy and I lived. Through the familiar door that read my wand core for security then up the familiar staircase while my ankles told me I had been in heels for too long.

My legs shook as I got to the door. I was not sure if I should open it to go in or if Percy had changed the spells after I left, I had no care to be burned or frozen for trespassing – Percy had a few magical talents and I thought his wards were a bit to potent to be used just on a home.

I paced around the hall for a few minutes, conjuring pebbles with my wand and tossing them towards the door – the pebbles bouncing off before they even hit the door, indicating the presence of wards. The way the small rocks exploded to dust on impact made me weary to try and go inside.

I'll just wait here. Percy keeps a tight schedule and frankly –

"There you are!"

I turned towards the familiar voice, my heart thumping loudly in my ears.

Percy's hair was slightly tousled from the rain and wind at the funeral, his cloak was unclasped as he had apparently thrown it on in a hurry. His tie was loosened enough to be comfortable, but still solemn enough for the occasion. He looked both prim and slightly roguish and – Get a grip Audie, he's just come back from his brother's funeral!

"Why are you out in the hallway?" He fiddled with a container of food he had brought back from the funeral.

I had to choose a response that would not make me look like a paranoid idiot.

"I just got here. What's in those?"

"Leftovers from the service and a few tiny sponge cakes. I thought you would like them."

"Please, I'm starving."

Percy took out his wand and dropped the wards so he could open the door and motion me inside first with a tender, earnest sort of expression. The flat had not changed much, it was messier with Percy living by himself and perhaps going into hiding himself? I could not remember asking about that... Being in here alone, knowing the only person who would come through the door would be someone you loved or someone who wanted you dead was not a good place to be mentally.

At least when I had gone into hiding, I knew Percy would come back.

I kicked my heels off and before I could say anything, Percy had put the containers of food aside on the small tableside door where I generally kept my purse. The door closed audibly and Percy was kissing me with the kind of fever that was infectious but wondrous. Delightfully private and not in a graveyard. My hands scratched at his lower back and Percy's hands were in my hair the way they could not be at Elizabeth Fudge's grave. My hair was undone and there was only Percy in my thoughts as the moments passed.

It was good to be home.

We came apart breathlessly.

The way Percy looked at me was not the look of a lovestruck boy, no, he looked at me in the way Elihu had looked at Elaine, the way he now looked at Valencia. It was a firm, sturdy sort of love that was not going to be shaken off course. There was nothing childish or youthful in our affections, we had long ago lost that privilege and would occasionally mourn the simplicity and intensity that belayed those sudden influx of feelings. No, this is intense in a far different way.

In that moment, all my fears and remnant anxieties washed away in the tide.

This… It was solid and profound, like an old tree that had lived a hundred years or longer. I was safe. I was home. I was loved and I sunk into the feeling, forgetting every talk we had before us. All of the choices I had made to protect Percy from my brother's choices and my own trauma of the situation.

Once we got through tonight, everything would be possible in the light of morning.

Percy picked up the containers of food, the smell wafting through the enclosed room. I followed him further into the apartment.

There was something comfortable in talking. We had started on in the kitchen, sitting opposite each other as we ate the warm food Percy had returned home with from the funeral. Molly Weasley was a talented cook who was friends with other talented housewives who stepped in to provide food for the service. Percy was kind enough to explain these women all knew his mother from the farmers market, Molly had cooked nothing from the time the family had returned home from the battle. There was a small roast, a few meat pies, several different casseroles of various types, a mixed medley of vegetables and potatoes, all of it kept warm through careful warming charms that kept everything at a reasonable temperature.

That was a safe place to start.

I probed first and Percy started - he had gone into hiding about two weeks after I had left. He had nothing left to really look for and watch at that point - frankly being the last Weasley standing had made him far more of a target of Yaxley's ire. Percy decided it would be easier to leave the Ministry and he would be at the flat should I return; his bag was backed and he had packed me a second bag in case we had to leave once I arrived. He marked three different potential locations to rebuild our lives somewhere, stating the easiest would be to find Eddie and Pearl in Spain.

His plans were dashed when he received word from Aberforth that I was alive at the end of April a couple of days after he had gone into hiding, Percy decided he would hold out a little longer and keep planning for me to return. He and Aberforth were corresponding, exchanging news about the Ministry and dealings at Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Strange friendship, but that was all of them these days.

Aberforth had sent Percy word about the battle through his goat patronus, we both agreed that was a useful bit of magic that might be worth asking Aberforth about the next time we were in Hogsmeade. I told Percy I had received the same message and there was a sudden tension in his expression. We both knew the two of us had missed the other entirely and could have died apart and unknown in the chaos of the battle. I tried not to think about that too much.

We set that part of the conversation aside for the moment, clearing away the table and boxing the extra food for tomorrow. I doubted there was enough food for two people in this house and we may or may not want to see people tomorrow. The pair of us settled on the couch afterwards, Percy putting an arm over my shoulders and pulling me firmly into him. He was warm and solid, the smell of his cologne was subtle and comforting, worn away from the weather and the long day. I allowed my head to come rest on Percy's shoulder and relaxed for the first time in weeks.

I started talking, it was easier without looking at Percy, I was not sure I could bear his reaction to everything I was going to say. I had left to look for Alex, that was the truth of it, but the winding road I had gone down in the process had been both dangerous and all consuming.

There was no secret to Harrow Avery's arrest, but I spoke of finding out he was impersonating my brother. I knew what to say in the matter of discovering the truth of the matter, placing my blame firmly on the accent and some of the things Harrow said, but mostly the rhythm of Harrow's words not being from my part of America. I… I was not able to speak of Harrow's hands beneath my clothes as he wore my brother's face. That was too much. It was too disturbing and upsetting, and Percy had just come back from his own brother's funeral. It was not the right time… There may never be a right time but the matter was so privately disturbing in depths I was only beginning to fathom. I needed to sit with it on my own in a place I felt safe for a time. It was not a matter of shame, it was a matter of wanting to keep that horror to myself as much as possible, I did not care to see the pity and horror in Percy's eyes - we deserved to pick up the pieces without shadows.

I remembered the wraith - even now in the comfort of my own home I could see the ominous figure of it creeping in the shadows, moving outward to remind me of the horrors it promised in its wake. The shadows contorted to hands that reached out from under the coffee table to try and grab my ankles. I tucked my legs up beneath me and leaned further into Percy. I understood the warning, while the wraith was quiet and not a threat to me, I would not be able to speak of it here. I thought of the battle and the cannibalism it inflicted at the battle - I needed to find some way to banish the creature for good.

Then came the matter of what I did afterwards, I admitted that I should have come home but finding the corpse of my brother under the floor of his safehouse had sent me on a madcap quest to find Harrow and finish the job. I was unwilling to state I had been partially hunting Voldemort, Percy would lock me in the Saint Mungo's asylum for that nonsense. My quest to find Harrow took me to the Undercroft, to an associate of Alex's and when the leads went cold, I started burning the homes of prominent Ministry members and associates, including Umbridge and Harrow's family home. Percy and I agreed that we should never mention that. It was both damning and frankly, the fear of civilian justice would stay with those who would never get a trial.

As to the matter of Fred - no, I would keep that to myself. Percy did not need to know about his brother's attempt to seduce me and honestly, yeah, I would save that for a rainy day when the wounds were less fresh. I felt like it was the kind of nonsense Fred tended to find himself in.

There was only praise for Tinsy's arrival, she was a boon in my lonely wanderings and had gone to retrieve Lucinda to rally the reinforcements at the Battle for Hogwarts. I had been fighting on the grounds, tied into the front-line defense of the castle and Percy's face paled considerably at the confession, clutching me tighter to him at the realization of how quietly I could have disappeared from his life. I had tried to look for him during the armistice, but had gotten lost in the castle after the wall came down and had lost the hour. When the fighting resumed, I spoke of how I had crossed wands twice with Voldemort, once to push him back into the Great Hall, the second with help from Lucinda and Tavish.

"Merlin's pants, Audrey!"

"I saw an opportunity."

Percy took the wise man's road and elected not to respond - instead he sighed heavily and tried not to say everything he was thinking at that moment. Namely that I was clearly a lunatic who was shaving years off his life.

I finished my tale, stating that I had joined the retaking of the Ministry afterwards and managed to arrest Harrow in the courtrooms of the Ministry, how I had made the arrangements to take Alex's remains home to America before word got out in the press. I wanted my family to honor Alex outside of the lights of the press and the initial tragedy of his passing to be a family affair. The truth of Alex's ashes would remain between myself and Thalia, Percy was too much of an appealing target for Jack at the moment. Let that be my betrayal alone.

Percy took over next, speaking of the battle as he clutched me tighter. How he had reunited with his family and joined the twins in the defense of the castle, George breaking off to support another group in securing another secret passage that was a high risk, leaving Percy and Fred to hold their position. How Thicknesse arrived with support.

"I turned him into a sea urchin."

I tilted my head up to look at Percy, he was looking away from me, a bit embarrassed, but his hand was also shaking.

"Really?" My voice caught on the last syllable and my hand moved from Percy's chest to his hip - his face colored visibly. "You removed a man's bones in the heat of battle?" That did things to me, I did not know that was something I was into, but yes, I would hold that bit of knowledge very close.

The feeling faded when Percy continued on, confessing he had made some stupid joke that he didn't remember anymore before the explosion came and Fred was gone. Harry and Ron had helped him move Fred's body away and Percy had gone tearing after Rookwood; he did not remember much of what happened after that. It was all a blur of noise and terror, but he remembered retrieving Fred's body during the armistice with help from an older student.

"I'm so sorry. It wasn't your fault."

Percy sighed quietly and I knew my words had not reached him. They might not because that was a burden to carry, if it were Annette who died instead of Alex, if I had been with Annette at war, with myself surviving over her, I would never recover from the blow. It would be too much and too many what if's and there was the scar of war laid bare.

"I'm happy you're here. I'm thrilled we get to reunite and start looking at what the new world could be." I paused and chose my next words carefully as Percy looked anywhere else but at me, leaving me with a full view of his perfect ears. I moved my hand up to touch his face, guiding him to face me. I hated that broken, lost expression in his eyes. "We get to write the next part of this story; we decide how to honor Alex and Fred moving forward. We need to live our lives for them and the world that is beginning anew."

I secured a nod from Percy, I was not sure if he was listening to me or if he liked the idea, but was not quite there yet.

"I'm exhausted. Can we go to bed?"

"Yeah," Percy sighed, "it's been a long year."

The days that followed were quiet ones, Percy and I had a lot to deal with and coming home to one another was a balm to the ongoing chaos of reconstruction around us.

It was easy to feel safe with one another, but sometimes the sensation of physical safety gives room for the buried terrors to surface.

It took a few nights of us being at home, but Percy began to toss and turn, tangling in the covers in a way I never knew him to do before. His quiet snores turned to near senseless mumble in the dark of the night before the thrashing started so quickly, I sat up to look down at him in a half-asleep state with his talking started gaining coherence.

I grew used to these episodes in time, learned how to deal with them out of trial and error. The frequency of the nightmares deteriorated as the years passed and we lived more joy than sadness and trauma. That part of Percy that lived the terror and his perceived failure of living when his little brother died shrunk to a sliver as the years passed, but in the years that followed, I would feel him toss and turn in bed before the sleep talking started. Sometimes he would startle awake instead and I would feel him leave the bed followed by the quiet noise of him pacing around the kitchen three in the morning until he wore himself out to sleep on the couch for an hour before he left for work. It was a cycle of good nights and bad ones, where we could wake up and talk about it, or if he would just go sleep on the couch to not bother me.

It was the only reason we kept the couch as long as we did.

In the following months, I would eventually take MACUSA's offer to speak with someone. Talking helped immensely, putting me in a position to manage my own issues to be a steadier presence in Percy's life when things were bad. There were some things Percy and I could not confide in the other about to begin with and we had to begin healing in other places – Percy would eventually find his way to the Mind Healing Unit at Saint Mungo's after a particularly bad series of nights before the one-year anniversary of the battle, but the nightmares and the guilt would haunt his nights frequently for years to come. He claimed to sleep better with me then he did alone and I had to take his word for it.


Oo0Oo0


May 12, 1998

It was strange to return to the Ministry of Magic after my previous visit. The platform in the fountain where the horrible Magic is Might statue was located until Shacklebolt destroyed it had been cleared of debris. It was only standing empty, waiting for something new to fill it in the months to come.

I guess living in interesting times really was a curse.

I registered my wand at the entrance to a curious expression when the directions to my interview room appeared on the paper before the registrar. I took the paper and my wand, leaving before he could try and give me directions. I knew where I was going.

The Ministry had more energy to it than it had over the last year. People were talking to each other again, the fear that had run their lives, the mistrust that had guided their interactions with others was clearing away with the comfort of familiarity and peace. It was like it was when I first started at the Ministry almost three years ago – but it felt better. There was no aura of doubt, mistrust and curiosity about press lies about a boy who turned out to have been right all along and had steered the course to a better world despite all doubts.

I stepped into the lift and saw new people I did not recognize from any part of the previous years – not a pureblood party or law-making administrators. There was chatter in the lift, laughter and note swapping about what was going on in different departments, who had come back to resume their old positions, how tan the secretaries had gotten on European beaches during their year abroad. One of the incoming interns was now passably fluent in Italian, which made up for his lack of sixth year at Hogwarts – reportedly the young man was coming on to do a bit of translation work before starting his seventh year.

The Ministry was clearly hard up for help if they were recruiting summer interns.

I stepped off the lift at the Law Enforcement floor to be greeted with the chaos of Aurors and other law enforcement officials trading maps and information across departments. I blew past the crowd, knowing that none of this was really my business and followed the signs to the interview room that had been set aside. When I opened the door there was a small collection of internal offices contained within with a desk in the center to register with a kind eyed old woman I recognized as Irene Firmin, the Minister's office secretary before me and a notable friend of Beth from the secretarial department.

Irene's snow-white hair was carefully set and postured for clerical duties, she was wearing emerald green robes that brought out her eyes and small elements of gold jewellery that matched my own bracelets that clanged about on my wrist.

She looked at me as I entered, leaping to her feet to pull me into a hug.

"I didn't believe it! I thought that it was a list error!" She squeezed me tightly and I got a full dose of her flowery perfume. It was a grandmotherly sort of hug and I felt myself relax into it. Irene let me go and took in my expression. "I'll tell the girls in the admin department! They were worried sick when you disappeared – we knew Susanna had to know something but we couldn't ask her without putting you both at risk."

"I'm fine. How is everyone? How is your granddaughter?"

I never knew the girl's name; it had never come up in our infrequent correspondence.

"Islay and Evie and fine! We're lucky they got out of Hogwarts before the battle started."

I had a memory of a girl named Evie from before the battle started, the way she gripped me like a lifeline, a total stranger. I paused... Was that the same girl that was Irene's granddaughter?

"Is her last name Smith by any chance?"

"It is!"

"I met her before the evacuation."

Irene covered her mouth in shock and hugged me again. "She said she met an American woman before the battle – I wondered if it was you! Thank you!"

The thanks were uncomfortable but... I hugged Irene back and tried to bury the image of Evie Smith looking up at me, scared out of her mind and the intruding image of Colin Creevey dead on the grounds. Dennis had returned to Thornell in the days after the battle to collect what remained of his things and Lucinda had spoken of how lost he seemed. She and Tavish had stepped in to help the boy make the arrangements to get Colin back to his parents for burial. Dennis was barely fifteen!

She stepped away again and I saw an opportunity to change the subject.

"I thought you had retired from the Ministry?"

"I did, but I got the call to come out of retirement and help out with everything going on while we weed out the larger segments of corruption. I know a lot of people and a lot of the Ministry business from over the last decade of my time in the Minister's Office, Shacklebolt wants my brain to reaffirm the stories people are telling and their private records. I'm not the only one who has been called back to service either, there is very little leadership that was not wiped out by this madness."

"That makes sense, trusted old guard coming back to stabilize and build trust."

Irene put her hands on her hips playfully. "I actually saw Weasley Junior yesterday."

"You didn't call him an infant again, did you?" I knew she did not because Percy had had no complaints when he came home, just a pure hollow exhaustion and relief at saying everything he wanted to say.

"No, no. He's grown up a bit, filled out a bit and looks less like someone shoved him into a taffy stretcher as a child. Not a bad looking young man. Polite too, we had a nice little catch up before he went to give his report."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

I had noticed. Often. Privately.

"Shame about the brother though. Percy looks rundown and he's too young to look forty even if he acts like he is. Fair warning before you return to the Minister's Office."

"I'm not sure if I'll be going back, my aunt is running an orphanage and it might be worth considering putting my efforts there."

Irene cocked an eyebrow. "That's all well and good, but the plights of orphans and the needy always get buried in a crisis. If you come back to the Ministry, there is a chance you can stay in Shacklebolt's ear about getting even a sliver of funding. Maybe one of those pureblood fortunes in full as restitution to support the children?"

Imagine getting a sliver of the Averys' money to support the children we hid under their beaky noses. That would be satisfying... Actually, Lucinda would have a valid claim to a section of it if the whole family was indicted or even Harrow and his father. We were not heartless enough to put Harrow's mother out entirely... I mean, I had burned her house.

The door opened to reveal a woman in black council robes, making her look more severe than the lines at her mouth alone would imply.

"Miss Graves, we're ready to see you."

Irene gave me a smile and stepped aside to allow me to pass as the swirling torrent of anxiety began to move through my guts. Percy told me that his interview was very long and he told them everything that had happened in the Minister's Office since Fudge's disgrace. Shacklebolt quickly made him an offer to return to the Minister's Office because, in Percy's words, he knew where the bodies were buried.

I took a seat at the end of the long table that I was gestured to, arranging myself primly as the group of seven people who Shacklebolt trusted to help him restructure the Ministry's major departments took their own seats. As I set my cloak on the back of the chair and reached for my own parchment and quill for my own private notes, I glanced at the people who would be speaking with me today.

Percy had not mentioned his father being present for these, I was willing to bet Arthur sat that one out for propriety and risk of bias. It was the smart thing to do when weeding out corruption in an organization, one needed to be above it all to avoid scrutiny, but perhaps curious enough to sit my interview, in case Percy ever decided to speak with his father on the matter.

I would pick my words carefully – there were some things Percy could speak to Arthur about when they both were ready, but I was not going to let Percy be scapegoated or seen as a collaborator, if that meant saying a little more to paint him favourably, then so be it.

The seven people introduced themselves to me, Susanna just grinned and rolled with the formalities of the matter as she began to shorthand the notes for a proper transcription. I knew Arthur and Shacklebolt, both of whom welcomed me warmly, but officially. I was then introduced to Hestia Jones, a middle-aged witch with graying dark hair who was working with the Law Enforcement Offices as a Charms specialist. Dedalus Diggle was an older man with a friendly disposition and a bright expression, he was working in the Public Relations Services Department of the Ministry on a temporary basis. I could understand why, he had a trustworthy sort of expression.

There were two more in the room I was unfamiliar with. The older man introduced himself as Balfour Baxter, he wore glasses and informed me that he was the new Head of the Foreign Affairs office - here as a favor and advisor to Shacklebolt in some of these matters. In other words, he was here to confirm political aspects of my story.

The last was Ottilia Woodbead, she had steel gray hair and a hard expression. She had taken control of the Wizengamot in the last few days. Reportedly, she had a clean record and a hard reputation. Managing to survive the Ministry under Voldemort was a testament to her skills and ability to fly beneath detection from nefarious players.

We spoke of generalities, how I came to be employed in the Minister's Office as a foreign national. I explained that I had a MUK passport along with my MUSA passport, making me a dual national as such things were allowed by both nations. The concept of dual nationality was a strange concept to many for some reason I was not sure I understood, but I could understand how it would raise eyebrows for someone working in a government position.

My time under Fudge was clean, aside from my hiring into the office as a foreign national, something that was quietly questioned for a long time within the Ministry's walls and an effort on Fudge's part to speak of a silent alliance with MACUSA that only existed as a historic tradition. It was motivation and a way to potentially use me to build trust with MACUSA if things went south. I took a lot of pleasure in pointing out that this task would have never fallen to me to begin with, that power laid with our diplomat Elihu Weathers – a man who only used political tact under duress believing it made him more trustworthy to appear to be free of the restraints of power. It did. But Elihu was too smart to be completely unhinged and out of bounds on the job.

The topic turned to the Scrimgeour Administration. This was a moment of careful treading; Percy and I had agreed we were going to keep our... frankly grand wartime romance out of our accounts. We were only going to speak of politics and the groundwork of policies, things that were relevant to the Ministry and not the gossip that fuelled the more bored members of staff. I was inclined to speak with as much honesty as I could manage in this regard.

Scrimgeour was a man who found himself in power and had long been used to control – he wanted to present an image of success against Voldemort – I ignored the wincing from some of the people as I said the name, the war was done, I had tried to bisect the man with an axe for Isolt's sake! – how he had blatantly used me as a chess piece to assure my father that everything was well and being handled with regards to the now open war the country had found itself in. My deft manoeuvring to remain a private citizen despite the lack of respect from Scrimgeour and my father on the matter. I gave the new Interim Minister Shacklebolt a hard stare as I said this, an implied message that I would not tolerate being used as such again.

Then, I could no longer avoid the topic of August First, the day of Voldemort's full takeover and Scrimgeour's assassination.

"Voldemort just came up to the door." I kept my voice steady out of sheer will and focus, I had replayed this memory many times and knew it to be important to history. "He had Corban Yaxley, Pius Thicknesse and that massive snake with him." I could see my audience leaning forward, Susanna's quill had stopped moving as she took everything in. I took a deep breath. "Scrimgeour did not know what was going on, his office door was closed. Percy and I were in the main office working when they arrived."

I risked a glance at Arthur, who was wide eyed and furrow browed.

I kept my eyes on Arthur as I continued to speak – because I wanted him to know the truth of his son. "Percy got me away from the door, stepped in front of me to protect me from whatever was coming – he saved my life that day. Voldemort asked to see the Minister and Percy walked him over to try and protect the both of us. Scrimgeour asked Percy to close the door to his office... Then Voldemort began to torture Scrimgeour."

The silence at the table was deafening.

"We had to listen to that for an hour – it felt like it went on forever. And while Thicknesse was staring off into space, Yaxley got bored and turned his attentions to me and Percy." I took a deep breath. "Yaxley tortured Percy. He wanted to know where Potter was, Percy seemed a likely target because it's known the Weasley family is close to Harry Potter... When Yaxley was done, he thought he'd try his luck with me, it was all boredom, I know this, how would I know anything? Voldemort killed Scrimgeour, leaving the office before Yaxley could begin and I was not tortured that day."

"But you were later?" Hestia Jones' voice broke through the silence.

"Yes." My voice betrayed no emotion at the matter, it was just a fact. "Yaxley found me to be an intriguing target as more time passed and he got more comfortable with his position at the Ministry. It did not take long for that to happen."

The quill began to scratch on the heavy pile of notes that Susanna was keeping again.

"When Voldemort came out of the office, he said something to his snake. An order of some sort? It obeyed. It went inside the office where Scrimgeour's body was... Percy and I did not find anything but a spot of blood when we looked inside after Voldemort and his lackeys left. The snake ate the Minister – that's why there was nothing of Scrimgeour to find... I managed to sell the fact that Percy and I were useful to the stable appearance of the office, so we were able to leave without further incident."

"You two found me in the lift afterwards." Shacklebolt clarified in his deep, calming voice. "I remember Percy telling me. You both looked awful."

It was that moment of levity that pressed me on to the events that happened afterwards over the next several months. The way Umbridge left the Minister's Office to enjoy the power offered in the prosecution of Muggle-borns, the distinct glee she took in the whole affair that was clear and obvious to those who had to endure even the most miniscule of exposure to her during those early months.

My attention then turned to Yaxley and how I had initially been able to lie about my relationship with the President of MACUSA, stating that I had claimed Jack to be my cousin on the family tree and fudged my more immediate familial relationships to protect myself as long as I could. That I understood that I was unable to have a clean break with the Ministry under these conditions, and had nowhere I could disappear to safely due to Lucinda's position with the government.

Then, I had to speak of when my lies were uncovered in October and Yaxley realized I was a valuable tool to muzzle Elihu Weathers and stay my father's hand. How I had been taken out of the Minister's Office and tortured for information about where my loyalties lay and as a way to get revenge on my father for isolating and laying bare the war crimes of the Ministry during his State of the Union address – how Yaxley was going to use me as leverage to stay the hand of MACUSA regarding any actions of British soil.

"I was moved to another department – Susanna can attest to the details of that arrangement."

"Yes," Susanna's voice chimed in quickly, giving me a moment to collect myself. "I have those circumstances in my own testimony and will confirm the details of what led to Audrey being removed from the Minister's Office as I understand the matter."

"Percy helped me out of the Ministry after Yaxley tortured me... Packed my desk for me as well. I am aware Percy was tortured in the Minister's Office after I left." I chose my words carefully, "He let it slip to me in passing a few months ago that he was a particular favorite target of Yaxley's."

I was having a difficult time reading Arthur's expression.

"I was mostly left alone after that – I spent a lot of time avoiding Yaxley. As much as I could anyway, Yaxley tortured me again a week before Christmas due to Representative Weathers publishing with Semper Honestus. He could not get to Weathers, so he got me instead. I had to attend the Ministry Christmas party to keep up appearances when I was physically in no state to be there, not being in attendance would have invited more trouble." I focused on Arthur again. "I saw you that night when I was leaving."

Arthur nodded in agreement, keeping his thoughts on the matter to himself but affirming his agreement.

"The final time Yaxley tortured me was in late February, when the Ministry arrested an American named Valencia Talbot and came to the Ministry to demand her release. Force was used, I happened to be seen nearby and Yaxley bluntly used me as leverage to get Weathers and the attending Aurors off site. One of the attending Aurors was my cousin who duelled Yaxley... I believe that Yaxley saw an opportunity to try and arrange for the assassination of Elihu Weathers once he and the Aurors were out of the building. I returned to the Ministry after this, Yaxley had requested I join his office as a reminder to MACUSA that he could kill me at any point."

"Why didn't you go into hiding after this?" Shacklebolt asked, that way he looked at me was intelligent and calculating, as if he knew or suspected some things that I would not be confirming in this meeting – but I needed to be honest about why.

I took a deep breath, now getting to the final part of my time at the Ministry. I knew what I had wanted to say, and I had chosen carefully words that would not fully implicate me for international spying.

"Revenge. I was looking for an opportunity to obtain information to take Yaxley off the board, be it after the war hopefully ended, or find a time when he would be on foreign soil to be arrested. My presence would stay MACUSA's hand while arrangements were made to create a chance to take Yaxley out of Britain. It was the scenario I was hoping was being worked on anyway."

The looks I was getting told me that I was believed too possibly be insane. Honestly, it was less crazy than the truth that I would never tell.

"In this process, I found the arrest warrant for Mr. Weasley and decided the best way to pay Percy back for saving my life during the fall of the Ministry would be to make sure his family fully went into hiding." My hands were damp with sweat and I quietly tried to wipe the perceived excess on the sleeves of my robes. "That's when I encountered Harrow Avery in the lift." I paused to let the words sink in and align my thoughts. "Harrow Avery proposed his family take control of my Great-Aunt Lucinda's home per the terms of the inheritance laws in place. Those laws were changed to disregard her at the Avery family's request. By the way, she would like those changes re-examined by the courts at an appropriate time."

There was a quick nod from Dedalus Diggle who took his own note for later and conferred silently with Ottilia Woodbead.

I pressed on, "Harrow also made me a very offensive proposal of marriage – there was nothing generous or affectionate in his offer, it was all about his power in the world and the prestige of connection I could offer. I refused – bluntly and rudely because he had dogged my steps on the matter for too long. He slapped me so hard I hit the floor and that's when Mr. Weasley found us. He got me out of the lift and I was able to pass on the warning in the privacy of his office as I intended. I left the Ministry after my shift and did not return until the reclamation."

Arthur was nodding along, confirming that his version of the events matched my own. Neither of us wanting to broach the fullness of the topics of discussion in his office that day.

"I stayed in hiding until I received a raven message that I believed to be from my brother, Alex. I found my way to the safe house he had created for himself in Muggle London and discovered that Harrow Avery had murdered my brother and was impersonating him to entrap me and gain power with MACUSA in a convoluted, hairbrained sort of scheme as he perhaps believed he was falling from grace with the Death Eaters. He escaped, I pieced together what happened in the house and located the remains of my brother."

The looks around the table bore a quiet, wide-eyed horror. They were filling in the gaps of my final sentence with what they could imagine and I was sure it was all less horrific than the reality of it.

"There is no need to look for Alex or handle the matter, MACUSA has investigated the site and attained any evidence you may require. I have returned my brother's ashes to the Graves family after the battle. If you want the records for your own, please put in a request with the Embassy."

There was a sympathetic silence in the room, broken only by the scratching of Susanna's quill. She bobbed her head as she worked, the quill half moving on its own as she silently corrected it with a thought or movement of her fingers in a quiet dance. I leaned back in my seat, taking in everything I had said over the time I had been in here. I took a sip of water and it felt magical running down my throat. How long have I been here speaking? Too long. I had things to do today and potentially choices to make.

"In the matter of Harrow Avery-" Ottilia Woodbead started.

I stiffened slightly at the mention of his name, a response so sudden I knew it was noticed.

"My citizen's arrest was justified; Avery was a collaborative agent in the regime and deserves the justice this new government sees fit."

Shacklebolt raised his hand, "It will be done, I'm sure you are aware that we are holding him in custody during the course of the investigation."

"I am – your rumor mill is very active."

There was the answering scratch of the quill from a grinning Susanna.

Ottilia spoke again, her mouth a tight thin line as she looked at me with a furrowed brow, "Avery keeps raving that you should not be trusted because..." She paused and looked at me closely over the rims of her glasses, her gaze cold and contemplative. "He claims you can speak to snakes."

There was a sudden intake of breath from Balfour Baxter that rustled his moustache.

There it was. I was not unsurprised by the inquiry; something told me Harrow would be using everything at his disposal to discredit me and the association with snakes would dampen me in the eyes of the public and in an administration that had been fighting a powerful dark wizard who shared my ability. Yes. I had to play this game very carefully.

"If I am a parseltongue, this is the first I'm hearing about it."

Be audacious. Banter a bit. Be sympathetic.

There were some nervous giggles from Dedalus Diggle.

I sighed quietly, letting the attention of the room fall over me once more. "Avery is not well, everything he spent his life working towards has fallen apart at my hands, after I found out he murdered my brother, we duelled, I admit that much is true, but what exposed that he was not Alex to me was the way he said some of his words. His attempt at an American accent was not correct for the north-eastern region of the country – the pacing of his speech was off; Alex was a fast-talker."

The more I spoke, the more nods happened around the room, the consistent rhythm of my own words building a case. I never really lost my accent during my time away, but I was able to perform a convincing impression of Percy's tones if I slowed down and focused.

I would not be speaking of Avery's attempt to assault me and the circumstances of it here. That would be as if speaking for an audience, and this interview was of an unofficial nature, stating it would be a private matter when Harrow Avery had a trial date. There would be no evidence, it would be my word against his and the lack of fulfilment of intent would weaken the story in the eyes of the law – but it would be on record if I chose for it to be.

I would grapple with that when the time came.

Harrow would be in prison longer for the crimes against the government and his support of Voldemort, I could be content with that outcome alone.

"Harrow Avery is grasping at unicorn tails to try and discredit me in whatever ways he can manage, prying on the fears of a war battered country is one way to do that."

The group nodded, agreeing with my own assessment of the situation.

I really was Jack Graves' daughter – even I had to acknowledge how easy it was to swing my interviewers to my side of the argument. Though, perhaps they themselves did not care to believe something so outlandish. A MACUSA President's daughter who could speak to snakes, living in the country that would now be so hostile to the mere idea that someone could do this horrible thing? That would be insane!

Sometimes, the truth could be stranger than fiction.

And hiding in the sheer audacity of the truth could be the safest option.

The meeting ended quickly after that. Kingsley Shacklebolt extended me a return to the Minister's Office; one I could take a couple of days to think about before accepting.

I would speak with Percy tonight about the matter.


Oo0Oo0


May 13, 1998

It was strange to be here.

Azkaban was a horrible place, filled with a combination of foul human stink and the faint undercurrent of sea air. Gross, salty, and a faint aroma of lavender and purifying plants left by healers and Aurors to dull the effects of being here as long as they were tending the prisoners.

My crow patronus sat on my shoulder and ruffled his feathers periodically – keeping away the creeping chill of the dementors who were trying to break through the barriers around Azkaban to return here to nest. Shacklebolt was not going to allow them to return, let them roam free in the free and no longer dine on the buffet presented to keep them enclosed. Without misery to feed on, the dementors power would dissipate considerably, lowering their numbers if given enough time.

Thalia stayed at my side, looking around and muttering the names of the prisoners we passed and what their crimes were. It was eerie how much she knew of matters despite her seeming isolation in her little cottage with only her dogs and Todd for company.

I had accepted the offer to return to the Minister's Office and resume my previous role. Percy and I were reluctant to return alone. I would come on to straighten the place and hold the line until Shacklebolt and Percy found someone who would stay on long term, as my intention would be to stay until the end of the year at the longest and that hopefully be to train whoever Susanna found to meet Percy's standards - but for the moment there was a lot of clean up and I had enough good will with Shacklebolt to negotiate some terms.

My first term was that Thalia Ranulf and I would get to see Harrow Avery in Azkaban.

My second, was to secure a line of funding to tide Thornell over until we had a plan in place for long term, independent funding. We did have long-term residents now and a few more were arriving.

My third condition was a coffee press for the Minister's Office to replace the one Yaxley broke. I was aware I had one at home, but if the Ministry broke my personal property, I wanted them to replace it. The term was a petty one, but I was entitled to a stupid request – I understood how government budgets worked, use the money or lose it next year. I saw it as a mutual benefit.

Thalia deserved the opportunity to look Harrow in the face after what he had done. I wanted the peace of seeing him behind bars because I would never see him again after the trial. When that was finished, I was going to move on completely with my life.

Let him rot away either here or in the custody of MACUSA – Elihu had let slip a bit of gossip and international policy on such matters between nations. I had not been paying much attention as I had not had any coffee yet and frankly Elihu knew better than to tell me complicated policy talk before I had coffee.

"Shacklebolt is as good as his word," Thalia tapped her walking stick on the floor twice, small sparks of magic emitting from where the wood met stone. "His guard is still at his post where we left him."

"That's unusual." Maybe the last two years had left me more paranoid than I should have been? But my request was so strange I wondered why anyone would honor it in full trust? My father would never allow such a thing. I cast a quick spell to double check Thalia's spell seeming to only reveal life only from the cells we had passed and the filled ones a floor above us. "Huh? Not a choice I would make but I'm grateful for it."

We turned the corner to the set of empty cells that used to hold arrested Muggle-borns, it was a shallow hallway where light merely glanced through the bars and created a dance of shadows on the wall.

I sucked in a breath through my teeth as one of the shadows warped into something familiar, like fingers reaching outwards towards me before pointing to the only occupied cell.

I did not have to clarify who we were looking at.

My crow patronus faded away with a soundless squawk – seemingly detecting no danger from the unnatural forces or dark magics.

I knew Harrow had been worn down to a pathetic sort of creature, but seeing him behind bars awaiting trial was a different layer to the matter. His hands had been darkened with the touch of dark magic and were visible as he lay on the floor of the cell, staring outward with hollowed eyes and parchment-pale skin.

If I did not hate him, I would find him pathetic and sad. Now, all I felt was vindication.

Thalia and I looked through the bars at him, neither of us sure what to say in that moment. The look of pure disgust and hatred in Thalia's eyes, tilted and wolfishly amber instead of her usual warm brown, as the remnants of her time under the full moon finished their departure from her physical being. There was something wild and vicious in her expression, but restrained in its outlet and trembling to escape.

The wedding ring around Thalia's neck caught a sliver of sunlight where it rested at her collarbone.

"Get. Up." Thalia's voice was cold and commanding.

Harrow moved slightly and the dark magic that had stained his arms were more fully visible. His hands looked more like bones, mummified was probably an accurate descriptor, but they were still able to move. I knew the wraith could interact with the physical world, but to see it impact an object of its anger in the long term was a strange, frightening thing. Suddenly, I felt very fortunate that it had not turned on me that way.

When Harrow's eye locked with mine a mutual, silent animosity took hold as my stomach churned in a repressed fear. Only building when I felt something above him in the cell. I risked a glance upwards to break eye contact and see what I knew to be there.

The wraith dangled down from the ceiling like a bat, the mossy cloak draping downwards and the distinct aroma of rotting flesh filled my nose. The vulture skull turned to look at me, the red embers burning in its eyes as it tilted its head slightly, the moss in the antlers swaying as bone fingers clicked together.

I turned my attention back to Harrow who was staring at Thalia with a vacant expression.

Thalia was stone silent as she took Harrow in, all of his patheticness and magical scarring.

"Well, I guess Alex got you in the end after all." Thalia chuckled darkly. "Yes, I think that will begin my satisfaction nicely."

Harrow was on his feet, glaring at the pair of us silently at the far end of his cell.

The wraith removed itself from the ceiling and appeared again on the wall, the antlers moving upwards as the wraith grew. I could see it looking at Thalia with a warm intensity, a reminder that this thing was the rage of my brother, that it still felt something warm and loving to Thalia. It moved through the bars and then jumped quickly back to Harrow to put a bone hand on the back of his neck to force him to look at Thalia as she spoke.

"Fuck you."

With those final words, Thalia turned away from Harrow, clutching the wedding ring she wore as a necklace as her cane tapped on the stone floor below to mark her steps.

Harrow and I were alone.

"Do you see it too?!" Harrow whispered; his eyes wide in horror as he looked at me, or more likely the wraith behind me.

I kept my face impassive, still like stone as the smell of rotted flesh filled my nose and the sensation of fingers tapped on my shoulders.

"Kill me and end this for the both of us!"

I said nothing. What was there to say that had not already been said. I was no longer in the social jail that life under fascism required of me. Every bit of power Harrow had during those years had been lost.

I was victorious.

"You'd leave your brother to this?" Harrow's voice was low and threatening as he swayed at the other end of the cell. His eyes were focused only on me and it was like we were the only two people in his tiny world. In every way that mattered, we truly were. "Leave him to roam the world, confined to this cell in the company of his killer!"

It was not smart to engage the lunatic, but I wanted one thing perfectly clear. "Alex made a choice and I'll respect it."

Harrow lurched forward, his arm shot through the bars to grab me, an unfathomable hate in his eyes as his arm swung wildly in an aggressive attempt to reach me. His hand brushed the collar of my robes before I could get away. The wraith's pressure on my shoulders did not deter further attempts from Harrow to grab me.

"MONSTRESS BITCH!"

I turned to walk away.

Harrow's screaming voice echoed down the corridor.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE!"

I kept walking down the corridor, straight-backed and refusing to stop. We were at quits, the two of us.

"WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THE WORLD KNOWS?"

I was not going to dwell on that. I had more social power than a man in a cell.

"YOU CAN'T HIDE FOREVER SERPENT-TONGUE!"

After all, who would pay a raving madman any mind?


Oo0Oo0


Author's Note: 10,300 words! I'm posting this early so I can work on the extended epilogue through the rest of this week (it's outlined! Along with the one shot side piece, both are amusing family dramas with much more Weasley content - both of these tie together, should be fun). I had to pick up some overtime on Sunday, so I'm working straight through the weekend and into next week.

The erotic handshake bit is a bit of a Brooklyn 99 reference. Those saucy minxes!

Is one of Audrey's turn-ons high level transfiguration magic under pressure? Yes. Percy removed a man's bones - that horrifying, a bit disturbing and frankly, he's going to get a lot from Audrey for that. I think powerful magics like that are a bit of a… thing (kink) for wizards.

Yes, Percy is going to have some degree of PTSD for the rest of his life.